The Prince and the Scullery Maid
by Bottle of Smoke
Summary: In the land of Narnia, sensitive Caspian IX is forced to chose a bride at a ball. His faithful friend Ornella, a scullery maid, however, sees this as a chance to win his heart. A Retelling of 'Cinderella'.
1. Chapter 1

Note: So I got this idea to retell classic fairytales using characters from the Narnia series. I originally had a plan to retell 'The Snow Queen' using _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe _(I'm sure it's been done before, but I wanted to do it myself), however this story popped into my head and took hold of me, and so this one got finished first. I wanted to use Caspian the Ninth because he has no backstory, so could do what I wanted with the story.

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Once upon a time, in the faraway country of Narnia, a prince sat on the window seat of his bedroom, gazing out of the window of his room. He was unhappy, not because of some mysterious magic, but because of his family.

His parents told this prince, Caspian, that he had a year to find a wife. That year was almost over, and he had yet to pick a wife. His younger brother, Miraz, was already ahead of the game and was engaged to a noblewoman. Miraz must wait until Caspian married, however, as was custom in their culture – the oldest son must always wed before the youngest. And that was the reason for Caspian's marriage arrangement, fr his parents didn't want Miraz to wait forever.

Miraz was getting impatient, meanwhile. He was putting more pressure on Caspian than his parents, for who would want to wait to marry because of their slowpoke, choosey brother?

Caspian sighed as he watched the wind ripple through the field below him. He wasn't being picky…he just wanted someone to talk to, someone who could understand him. All of the noblewomen were fair and lovely, yet they were petty and shallow – they would never make good soul mates, let alone queens. As for the commoners – well, Caspian didn't know any. He rarely went around the towns, for he was always treated differently, much to his chagrin. It seemed that no one saw him as a person, just a prince.

A slight clatter came from his door. He turned to see a maid, Ornella, cleaning supplies in her hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry Your Majesty, I'll come back later," Ornella apologized, rushing to close the door.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Ornella," Caspian rushed, getting up from his seat. "You can clean. I won't complain. Besides, there's nothing I can rush to do – everyone's too preoccupied with the ball to want to do anything else."

"If you're sure," Ornella replied. She dumped her armload of supplies on the floor, picking up a dust rag and going for his family portrait. "As long as Master Janeco doesn't find out about me cleaning while you were still here."

"Nonsense – I wouldn't tell," Caspian sighed, sitting back on his window seat. "Everyone's too worried about that stupid ball, no one would care anyways."

"I take you're not too excited about this ball," Ornella observed, continuing to dust the portrait.

"It's just…do I have to get a wife in such an artificial way?" Caspian sighed.

"No…but your parents can't think of a better way to find a wife for you. That and Prince Miraz is itching for you to get married," she smiled, going for his assorted knickknacks for her next dusting conquest.

"I don't think forcing every single known bachelorette on me is the answer," he muttered, picking at the curtains on his windows. "None of the Telmarine noblewomen are worth the time – why would the Princess of Archenland or a simple Telmarine country maiden?"

Ornella smiled. "I can't tell you, Prince Caspian. My stepsisters will certainly want a go at you, though." She wiped her brow, smearing dust and soot on her face. Ornella was not homely, but her profession certainly inhibited her looks. She was pretty, with dark, ebony hair and lightly tanned skin, but she was always sweaty and dirty and dressed in worn clothes.

Caspian chuckled. "I don't know if I can stand the Fabulous Clondoze sisters again."

"They just want what's best for them – more money, a better title, infamy. But for all their preening, they don't even know your birthday." She threw her dusting cloth in the pile with the rest of her supplies. "The third of November, by the way," Ornella tossed over her shoulder, smiling as she picked up a fresh pair of bedclothes.

"I'm just picking a wife based on first impressions. Not very wise, I think," Caspian said, turning away from the window to face Ornella.

"So ask your mother to have some time to court the girl," she suggested, tucking the sheets under the bed.

"Mother says I must be married by the end of the month," he gloomily replied. "It's an agreement we had. I had to be married by the end of the year. And it's almost the end of that year."

"Oh, dear. You've been slacking, haven't you?" Ornella joked. "I certainly don't have that pressure. My stepmother could care less about marrying me off."

"I remember when you first came here ten years ago," Caspian smiled. "You were a very small thing, not much taller than the broom. But you loved to talk to me. You were 'ever so glad to be working in the castle, since that's where everything happened.'"

"I was a little cheeky, wasn't I?" Ornella remembered, as she smoothed out the comforter. "There. You should be set for today, Prince Caspian." She gathered the used bedclothes in a heap in her arms, and folded the cleaning supplies into the bedclothes. She held them close to her, enveloping her in cotton. "Hope the love quest goes well for you," she wished, winking at him. She closed the door behind her, leaving Caspian smiling.

Caspian got up from his seat and flopped on the bed. _Why can't ladies be more like Ornella_, Caspian thought.

Ornella was Caspian closest friend. When they were very young – Ornella twelve and Caspian fifteen – they grew close out of their loneliness. Ornella had to work to keep her family income steady. For years she was the one of the youngest servants working at the castle. Most of the other, older servants ignored her, and she often found herself alone. Caspian was a sensitive, overly mature boy who had a hard time relating to the young noblemen his age. He found them to be either boring or mischievous.

A year after Ornella came to work, however, her widower father managed to marry a noblewoman, Lady Deronda. She was a prim, proper lady, and felt that though her new husband now wore the title of nobility, her new stepdaughter didn't. Ornella, therefore, continued to work in the castle, while her shallow yet unaware stepsisters Mirabella and Verelle got all of the finer things of life.

Ornella was a smart girl – she went to the village school before having to drop out because of her job. She had the potential to become a schoolteacher, she said, but her hopes were dashed when her merchant father lost all of his trade ships at sea. Yet she always kept a happy face, hiding how sad she would be. She would try her hardest to cheer Caspian, for he was prone to bouts of sadness.

He was only friends with Ornella – he didn't want to become lovers. Yet, he felt that a marriage of friendship would be more reasonable than one of convenience.


	2. Chapter 2

Ornella dropped her supplies and billows of bedclothes down, next to the fireplace. No one was in the servants' workroom. She smiled weakly as she sat next to the fireplace, rubbing her hands together. They were already dirty with grime, but she had forgotten long ago what it was like to be totally clean.

She knew that she would have to be hard at work this week preparing the castle for the ball. Her smile surrendered as she thought of her dear Caspian being given to another, unknown woman. Caspian would never know how much she loved him.

He had no clue that for the past year, Ornella had grown to love him. He talked to her and was friendly with her, nothing more. And she continued to act the part of the willing, cheerful confidant. All the while, however, she felt the pain in her heart grow as she realized that she cared for him, but that he probably saw her as nothing more than a friend. Though, with his recent confession, she knew that if he married another woman, he wouldn't love her. And that was enough for her.

"Dreaming again?" a voice whispered in her ear.

She jolted out of her seat. "Land's sake, Miss Titania, don't scare me like that!" Ornella clutched her heart.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear, I thought you saw me," the servants' headmistress apologized. Miss Titania was a gentle, middle-aged woman, who looked very young for her age. Her hair was pure silver, but her face was unlined, her posture erect and her voice without harshness or quaver. What were most startling about her were her bright blue eyes – no Telmarine had naturally blue eyes, and that alone made some people suspect that Miss Titania was part Old Narnian, the race that used to inhabit Narnia. Miss Titania was Ornella's closest friend, after Caspian. After Ornella was taken on as a scullery maid, Miss Titania looked after her as if Ornella were her own daughter.

"That ball that Queen Cyrena is planning will be the death of us. Did you know that she has ordered thirty whole, cooked bucks? The poor cooks will be half-dead by the end of the night."

"Will I have to clean the ballroom once again?" Ornella asked, stoking the fire.

"Oh, no. That ballroom gleams like a jewel. You can't find a speck of dust on it." Miss Titania grabbed a wooden bucket and handed it to Ornella. "Please help fill up the washing cauldron."

After lugging buckets of water for half an hour, Ornella wearily helped Miss Titania with the wash.

"Shouldn't the wash maids handle this?" Ornella asked.

"Oh, it's just an excuse for me to talk to you, dearie," Miss Titania smiled, twisting a limp cloth in her hands. "So, how long have you loved Prince Caspian?"

Ornella felt an electric current run through her body: she hadn't told anyone about her secret love – she knew it would be foolish if anyone found out. "What are you talking about?" Her voice faltered and stammered, betraying Ornella.

"Oh, don't lie to me, Ornella," Miss Titania gently rebuked, wringing out a shirt. "I see how you look at him and how you stare distantly into space, sighing as if nothing can cure you. I know that look very well. It's a look of a woman hopelessly in love." She was not taunting the maid, but simply stating a fact.

"Miss Titania, you can't tell anyone that," Ornella murmured, glancing about as if to find some eavesdroppers. "You know what would happen if anyone found out about me, a scullery maid, in love with a prince? I'd be the joke of the castle, or worse –I'd be dismissed at once."

"Of course I won't, dearie. But you know, a crying heart can't stay quiet forever." She hung the shirt over the clothesline running around the room. "You never answered how long you've loved him."

Ornella continued to keep her voice down. "Only this past year. I can't say why…he's just so quiet and misunderstood. None of the noblewomen knows how to talk to him. They say he's a big dreamer, but he's only wondering about the finer things in life. He's a thinker, not an aggressor, like Miraz. I don't think many women can appreciate that."

"And you feel that you're the same way, too," Miss Titania observed.

"Well…not exactly. I can talk to him and understand his feelings, but I'm more grounded than he is. I can keep him in balance. I don't think most women know how to deal with thoughtful husbands. They seem a little alien, I suppose."

"They're just used to men like Miraz, who flirt and tried to win favor from them. Caspian is a bit of an oddity," Miss Titania agreed, pinning an apron on the line.

"The noblewomen have more of a chance of winning him than I do," Ornella cursed bitterly. She sloshed the remaining clothes about the cauldron with her arms in frustration.

"Why would you say that, dearie? You said that he has no interest in them," Miss Titania gave her a curious look.

"Because no commoner has married a prince in the history of Telmar or Narnia or – or – or anything!" Ornella cried. Two small tears slipped out of her eyes and fell down her cheeks, into the lukewarm water below.

"My dear, what happened to your happiness, your hope? You're not one to cry and complain in hopelessness," Miss Titania comforted, wrapping her arms around the desolate girl.

"Oh, it's still there, Miss Titania. It's just – I can't seem to find anything good about this situation, no matter what I think. Even if he wasn't a prince, who's to say that he loves me? He just sees me as Ornella his friend, not Ornella his lover."

"I'd say you need a cry, dearie," Miss Titania decided, holding Ornella close to her. Ornella's tears came softer than her hacking, heart-breaking sobs. The tears flowed easily down her face. "I didn't mean to provoke you so."

"Oh, you didn't. Everything's just been building up," Ornella apologized, sniffling. She pulled away and searched her apron pockets for a handkerchief, but couldn't find one, as usual. Miss Titania handed her one.

"May I remind you that the first king and queen of Narnia were commoners themselves?" Miss Titania reminded comfortingly.

"Miss Titania!" Ornella gasped, her tears vanishing with the sudden shock she received. "You know the law – no talking about Old Narnia, ever!"

"Oh, that law is ridiculous!" Miss Titania replied, looking as angry as Ornella was shocked. "How can we pretend an entire culture never existed? Old Narnia was a lot better than the new one, I can tell you that," she dismissed, wringing a tunic out violently.

"Well, we're stuck in the present right now," Ornella concluded, taking a final wiped of her nose and returning the handkerchief to Miss Titania. "Next Thursday Prince Caspian of Narnia will be forced to find a bride, and I'll go on being Ornella, an unimportant maid. I'd give anything to go to that ball, just to see him one last time by himself, without anyone on his arm," Ornella sighed, as she gave a pair of pants an overly-energetic flick, splaying water all about, including all over her face. She huffed in frustration. "I wish my stepsisters would know what it's like to work and slave while their relatives live in luxury."

"Why don't you just quit?" the lady asked.

"I tried once before, but my stepmother told me that I wouldn't have a house to come home to if I did. I didn't want to chance it; I have no other family, and outside of being a maid, a woman can't get a job in Narnia."

Miss Titania looked at her, wide-eyed. "Your stepmother sounds terrible!"

"I don't know if 'terrible' is the right word," Ornella said diplomatically. "She is very distant, and has only seen me four or five times. Ever since Father died, she doesn't want me around. I suppose she loved father, and I remind her too much of him."

"That or she doesn't want to admit that she has a stepdaughter who's a scullery maid."

"Maybe," Ornella admitted, with a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know my stepfamily that well at all, other than the fact that my stepsisters are a little foolish, according to the prince."

There were only a few more pieces of clothing left in the cauldron as they hung the sheets on the line. "You know, Ornella, there's no law saying that a commoner can't marry a prince. Isn't this a ball for all of Narnia as well – for commoners to attend, too?" Miss Titania asked

Ornella sighed, frowning slightly. "Yes, but everyone knows it's a joke – if the prince isn't satisfied with the noblewomen, why would he be with a commoner? Besides, I doubt they would give the help the night off."

"Oh, don't worry, dearie," Miss Titania soothed. "Things will work out."

_Unless I become the princess of a foreign land, I highly doubt that_, Ornella thought to herself, as she twisted the water out of a skirt.


	3. Chapter 3

Caspian was still sprawled out on his bed when he heard a knock at his door. He scrambled up off his bed, his back facing the door. "Come in."

"One week to go, Cas," a familiar voice said. Caspian turned to see his younger yet larger brother, Miraz, walk through the door. Miraz was an imposing figure – over six feet tall and hulking muscle. Caspian was as tall as his brother was, but thinly built. Miraz was certainly an intimidating figure, but Caspian knew that his brother had more might than mind.

"Yes, Miraz," Caspian replied flatly. He knew that, although his parents were worried that Caspian wouldn't marry, Miraz was near murderous. He was hostile towards Caspian all year until the past two months, when planning for the ball began. As his parents began to pressure Caspian about marriage, Miraz seemed to have let off. It was as if he thought their parents were giving Caspian enough pressure without him.

"Why so down? Everyone else is excited," Miraz lightly asked, examining the new doublet that hung in Caspian's wardrobe.

"Don't be Sally Sunshine with me, Miraz," Caspian warned, sitting on his window seat. "You know I loathe this ball more than anything in the world."

"Come on, Brother. It's not going to be a total drag. Besides, you did have an entire year to find a girl, and you didn't really try."

"You are right," Caspian begrudgingly agreed. He loathed the entire process, and therefore, gave it little effort.

"There are some nice ladies out there. Princess Clemency of Archenland is quite agreeable." Miraz stopped looking at the new clothes and began to examine himself in the mirror. His features where sharply defined, pointed, and jutting. Caspian had the same large forehead and high cheekbones, but his face was softer and less angular than Miraz's.

"If she's so nice, why didn't you marry her?" Caspian sarcastically asked.

"Because there's only one woman for me, and you know that," Miraz replied, fixing his bushy hair. "Lady Pruniprissmia Filgrae, the fairest of the fair Telmarine ladies."

"And owner of the oddest locks in Narnia," Caspian added. Pruniprissmia had red hair, unusual for a Telmarine.

Miraz shot him a cold look. Caspian felt a small shiver go down his spine. For all of Miraz's gloating and bluster, it was his looks that could send fear. Luckily, he rarely used his poisonous gazes on others. "I wouldn't talk ill of others betrothed, Caspian, when you have no prospects of your own."

"I'm not desperate enough to take the first woman to look at me," Caspian muttered under his breath, looking out the window. His nose was touching the window just by the tip. Within seconds, his entire body was mashed up against the pane, Miraz's full body weight pressed against Caspian.

"Did you say something, Brother?" Miraz questioned coolly in Caspian's ear.

Caspian, annoyed by his brother's behavior, threw his body back with all of his strength and managed to force Miraz off him. Miraz, slightly surprised by his brother's sudden burst of energy, lost balance and fell hind first to the floor.

"I will admit I was out of line, Miraz, but don't think that I'm not able to hold you off," Caspian scolded.

"I can see," Miraz replied, getting up from his compromising position. He dusted himself off and leaned up against the bedpost. "You know, you're being far too gloomy for someone who is about to be the center of attention at Narnia's biggest event of the year," he observed, quite truthfully.

"I am, but I can't seem to find anything good out of this, Miraz. I'll be bored stiff," Caspian complained.

"Caspian," Miraz said, giving him an earnest look, "you are being far too much of a downer. Only you can make this ball worthwhile. If you keep on saying it's going to be a bore, it will be a bore. But it's a huge party – I'd have as much fun as I can before I have to get married."

They looked at each other in stark silence. Caspian felt something inside of him release and leave at the same time. It made Caspian feel better and confused at once. All of what Miraz said made sense, and was good, caring, _loving_ advice.

And that was what made Caspian confused. For years, Caspian and Miraz were at odds, loathing the other. Yet, the occasion when one would show love to the other was rare and odd for the two. It reminded them that they were brothers, not rivals

"You're right, Miraz," Caspian concurred, running a hand through his hair. It was like he could see clearly now. "I can't believe it, but you said something comforting and good to me."

"Well, I might not like you, but you _are_ my brother, after all," Miraz explained. He got up and clapped Caspian on the back in a chummy sort of manner. "Best of luck, Brother."

"Thank you," Caspian smiled, weakly.

Miraz turned and left, leaving quieter than he entered.

"Miraz can be very surprising sometimes," Caspian whispered aloud, crossing over to his mirror.

Caspian stared at himself, his serious, dark brown eyes surveying him in the mirror. His face was not full of the painful resignation it once had, but with a slight, pale glimmer of hope. If he _was _going to have to pick a mate, he might as well have fun doing it.

He decided to take a ride around Narnia and went to his door, opening it to see Ornella there, once more. She had a massive pile of clothes in her arms and a fist raised, ready to knock.

"Oh, excuse me, Prince Caspian. I always seemed to be coming at the wrong time. You don't mind taking these, do you?" She handed over the clothes, smiling as she looked at him. Her dark eyes, however, looked a little sad. They were red and misty, almost as if she had been crying…those beautiful eyes….

"Are you all right, Ornella?" Caspian asked. She was always happy, at least, when she was around him.

"Oh, right as rain. Why?"

"No reason," he tossed off, pressing the clothes to his chest. His good mood made him bold, as an idea came to him. "Say, what are you doing during the ball?"

"Probably helping out the rest of the servants. Maybe I'll join their I Capture the Castle tournament. I'm not very good, but it's something," she shrugged.

"Why don't you come to the ball? I couldn't imagine having fun without you," Caspian proposed.

Ornella bit her upper lip, silent for a moment. "I don't think I can, Prince Caspian."

Caspian furrowed his eyebrows. "Why ever not?"

"I'm the hired help. I can't go to these sorts of galas – I'd risk losing my job." She rubbed her right arm up and down, looking down at the floor. "Trust me Prince Caspian, there's nothing more I would want to do in the world. But not everyone was invited to attend this ball," Ornella bluntly said, her voice soft with wistfulness. It was obvious that this pained her, but Caspian never seemed to think of Ornella as below him.

Caspian's face fell. He was just giving an offer. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just suggesting-"

"I understand, Prince Caspian," she replied. "You're just worried that you won't find someone. But you will. You're smart and handsome and bound to find the right woman," she smiled. Her eyes seemed to get blurrier, redder, clouded up with emotion. "Tell me all about it. I'll try to spy, but it's always different first-hand." She turned around and quietly walked away.

"Ornella!" Caspian called willfully. She cautiously turned around.

"Yes sir?" She looked at him with a tilt to her head, her back straight and her smile crooked. She was a figure of gentility and quiet understanding, something Caspian had yet to find. He felt his heart give a small throb, a pain he never felt before.

"I'll tell you all about it the second the ball is over," he said, smiling weakly.

She nodded and left, leaving a small pain in Caspian's heart.


	4. Chapter 4

Caspian couldn't get the image of Ornella, tall, proud, and sad, out of his head. Nor could he get that heart-rending, aching pain out of him. He wondered if he was feeling pity for Ornella, if that was the reason why every time he thought of her his heart pulsed and ached. He doubted it, as he had felt pity before, and pity never felt this strong or consuming before.

Ornella, conversely, was trying her hardest to forget about Caspian. She found that if she worked tirelessly, from dawn til starlight, she could forget about Caspian. Instead, her work would consume all of her thoughts and feelings.

Ornella wasn't the only one working hard. The entire castle was in a flurry, and if anyone got any rest, it was an achievement. Last minute preparations became crucial decisions. Tears of frustration were shed, hours of energy were used, and compromises abounded.

Caspian, during all of this, had taken a passive role. He had gone to his fittings and gave his opinions, and that was all that his role required; no setting things up, no making up invitations, no adding sugared violets to the pudding. He wanted to help, just to find something to do, yet all of the servants told him that they were the servants for a reason. Caspian, therefore, found himself with a lot of free time on his hands. He and Miraz played endless games of Pentacle (with Caspian losing most of the time) and I Capture the Castle (where the tables were turned on Miraz). After losing his thirtieth match of Pentacle and having to endure Miraz's taunts ("Whose the top brother _now_?"), Caspian felt that some alone time was in order.

He had given up the childish habit of prowling about the castle when his father started giving him jobs to do. He had completely forgotten how he and Miraz would often sneak about the corridors, looking for an unsuspecting servant they could play a trick on. Now all of those memories were coming back as he walked through the halls, examining the old portraits and suits of armor.

He usually spent the day in his office, a small room branching off his fathers' library. His father had given him the job of Head of Narnian Land Relations when he was twenty, as Father thought he needed some type of king-like training. The job was slightly dull, as he had to deal with the problems like land disputes among farmers. Though Miraz thought it was an absolute bore of a job, Caspian liked having some significance in his people's lives, other than being their future king.

Now, however, his father had taken over his job for the time being, to 'take some stress off him.' Caspian knew that he would have his job back – and something to do – once the ball was over.

He had been trying over the past week to find Ornella. He couldn't explain it, but he thought that the pain that he felt for her would go away if he saw her. The problem was he couldn't seem to find her. She always seemed somewhere off in another part of the castle.

Ornella wanted things to be that way. While Caspian felt things would get better if they saw each other, Ornella knew it would only get worse – at least, for her. All of those feelings of love and anxiety would continue to war within her whenever he was around. She kept her distance and made sure that she was as far away from Caspian's room as she could get.

Caspian was starting to give up hope for the day when he saw a quick flick of a skirt around the corner out of the crook of his eye. He felt his heart give a greater lurch than it did before, and instead of the pain decreasing, it grew. He turned, but didn't see a thing.

_Something's wrong with me. I've never felt this way before-jumpy, anxious, heart pounding. This can't be pity._

Caspian suddenly lost interest in roaming about the castle. He turned on his heel and walked, without any real intention in mind, back down the hall.

* * *

Caspian was examining himself in mirror once again. The crimson and gold doublet fit him perfectly, showing off his slender figure. His clean, well-put together appearance belied his feelings. His stomach was tossing and turning with nervousness, and his heart was still pounding away. He felt like he would explode at any moment from the tension growing inside his body. He gulped, messing around with his curly black hair out of uneasiness. Outside of his door was a ballroom filled with people, waiting just for him.

A knock came from his door. Caspian jumped, startled. He shook himself back into sanity. "Come in." His voice croaked and shook from nerves.

"Someone sounds a little scared," a voice joked. Caspian felt his heart leap again and he patted it, as if to calm it down. He turned to the door and instantly smiled.

"Well, you would be too if thousands of people were waiting on your every move," he replied. His knees got weak at the sight of her. She was dressed in a brand new uniform, clean and pressed. Her hair was pulled back from her face into a queue with a ribbon, modest as always. She was simple, simple and beautiful. Yet, for all of her new, clean trappings, there still was a smear of grime on her left cheek. Caspian chuckled softly.

"What? Do I have something on me?" she cried in alarm. She shook her skirt violently.

"Not on your dress, your face," he said, stepping to her.

"I always forget my face," she sighed, taking a step back cautiously.

"Maybe they should call you Cinderella instead of Ornella," he joked softly. "I don't think I've ever seen you without smudges on your face." He reached out, taking her face in his hands. Her skin felt soft and smooth under his hands. They had never been so close before; never even close enough to touch. He didn't know what made him so bold, but he felt it had something to do with his heart beating its way out of his chest. They exchanged a scared, frightened look, and Caspian suddenly knew what made his heart beat so.

The look was broken, and Caspian quickly wiped the smudge off, pulling his hands away swiftly. He looked down at the floor, embarrassed and having realization flood over him. They stood in an awkward silence, staring at the floor.

"Well, such is the life of a maid," Ornella finally coughed. Her face was as red as Caspian's doublet. She kept her eyes down, and twisted her hands together. "Have a wonderful time, Caspian. Don't worry," she bowed and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

She walked back slowly to the servants' quarters. She felt so confused, so odd. Did that really just happen? Was Caspian that close, his dark brown eyes looking into hers? He had a look in his eyes, a look that was so mixed with emotion she couldn't tell what they were saying at all. His actions, however, made her good luck wishes twice as hard. She wanted it to be quick and clean, and instead it was sloppy and uncomfortable.

She finally reached the servants' quarters. She wanted a few moments to get herself together before she would have to go and help the serving maids. The room was empty except for the faint fire flickering in the hearth, warming a large cauldron of water.

She managed to choke back tears, but the memory of his sudden touch remained a sharp ache in her heart. She sat in a stool in front of the hearth, her forehead in her hand, emotionally wiped out.

"Why are you always so blue-looking?" a familiar voice observed.

"Because I am," Ornella replied, staring at the fire. She yawned, blinking her eyes from fatigue. She couldn't wait for this ball to be over, so she could get over her physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. "I wish this ball would be over."

Miss Titania looked at the girl for a second, her head cocked, thinking. Her bright blue eyes surveyed her, complacently examining her. "I've been thinking about this all week, Ornella, and I think you need the night off."

Ornella jerked straight up in her seat. "Wh-what? TONIGHT? Miss Titania, are you crazy?"

"My dear, you are tired. Having you on your feet tonight will be the death of you. You've been the hardest working servant of the week. You deserve a break," Miss Titania firmly said.

"Miss Titania, I would love to, but I can't! Master Janeco would have me fired right on the spot!" She couldn't believe that she was suggesting such a thing, on tonight of all nights!

"I will talk it over with Master Janeco. We are in no way short-handed, Ornella. You won't be a great detriment to our ranks," Miss Titania insisted. "Now," she said, "use the water in the cauldron for your bath. If anything, a hot bath will make you feel better." She closed the door behind her.

_Well, looks like I get a little fun tonight, too _Ornella thought, looking at the simmering water in the cauldron. The sudden free night seemed to put her mind at ease, at least for a little while.

She scrubbed herself well, trying to rid herself of the cinders that coated her daily being. That recent event with Caspian made her question her cleanliness. As she stepped out of the tub, the water dripped a murky gray.

_Ugh – I guess Caspian was right, _Ornella winced.

She dried off and quickly dressed herself. She was anxious to see what Miss Titania had up her sleeves, as she had been gone for a very, very long time. Surely, it wouldn't take this long for her to convince Master Janeco. As she was slipping on her tiny, tattered clogs, Miss Titania finally came in.

"I'm sorry dear, but there was a little accident in the kitchen that I had to take care of," Miss Titania apologized. "But Master Janeco, after some arm-twisting, agreed to give you the night off."

"That's great," Ornella replied. "Now I need to think about what I am going to do. I haven't had a day off in years." She yawned and stretched her arms once again, sleep trying to claim her. "Maybe I should just sleep."

"Or you could go to the ball," Miss Titania suggested gently.

Ornella gave Miss Titania the same, shocked look that she gave her before. What was the matter with this woman, talking about taking the night off and going to balls when she should be doing her job? "Miss Titania, have you gone mad? Do you realize what you've just said –"

"My dear," Miss Titania interrupted, putting her hand up "you told me that your greatest wish right now would be to see the prince, your love, alone and happy for one last time. And I would love to make that wish come true. I can't bear the thought of you toiling or sitting the night away in agony. You've lead an unhappy life already, so why make it worse?"

"But how can I get away with –"

"Trust me, my dear. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"All right then, Miss Titania. One more question, though."

"Oh, anything, dearie," Miss Titania said.

"Where am I going to get the clothes?" Ornella brought to light. After all, even if her uniform was new, she certainly could _not _go to any ball, this one or otherwise, in a maid's outfit.

Miss Titania pursed her lips in consideration. Ornella felt that she had cornered Miss Titania and that she was in for a long night alone. However, Miss Titania just sat down in a chair in silence.

"Sit down, dearie," Miss Titania motioned to the stool. "I have a confession to make – one that is very dangerous, yet very wonderful."

Ornella complied, sitting and looking at her friend with puzzlement. "What is it, Miss Titania?" Ornella was hoping it wasn't something too serious.

"Remember this, Ornella," she looked deeply into the scullery maid's eyes, the blue depths murky with seriousness, "I have never told anyone this. I trust you with this knowledge because I believe you can keep my secret. Please, don't blow off my trust like it is nothing – trust is the greatest gift a person can give."

Ornella nodded, wondering what was so dire she had to tell her right now.

Miss Titania sighed and straightened her shoulders, ready to tell all. "Have you ever wondered why my eyes are blue?"

"Yes. Everyone says it is because you are part Old Narnian," Ornella slowly said.

"Well, I am."

The words hung thick in the air, coated the breaths they took in, flavored the thoughts in their minds. Miss Titania looked like a woman who had rid herself of her greatest fears. Ornella wore a look of confusion. Was she serious? She sure did sound like it.

"What type of Narnian are you?" Ornella asked. Her curiosity was firing off a thousands questions a minute, yet she held them at bay.

"I am part fairy. They are one of the rarest and most powerful of the Old Narnians, and very few people, if any, have fairy blood in them."

"What is a fairy, Miss Titania?" Ornella wondered, a little ashamed by her lack of Narnia knowledge.

"A fairy is a creature that is like humans, but more fantastic and powerful than you can imagine, my dear," Miss Titania explained. It was coming easier to her. "Fairies look like humans, act like humans, have emotions like humans. They are beautiful and graceful. However, they are many things that humans are not. They are sisters to the dryads of the tree and the naiads of the sea. They live for many, many years, longer than humans do.

"They also have two qualities that distinguish them among Narnians, and both of those traits are handed down through the generations. One is blue eyes. Every being that has fairy blood in them, even if it is the smallest amount, has blue eyes. The second is the power of alchemy."

Miss Titania stopped, looking back at Ornella with same serious, brooding eyes. "Is this too much for you at once, dear?"

Ornella sat silently, thinking. It _was _a lot for her to handle. Was Miss Titania serious? Was she a fairy? How was this even possible? "It's very hard to wrap my mind around this, Miss Titania. Does this mean that Old Narnians are real?"

"Oh, my dear, they are as real as you and me. They aren't myths and legends and horrid, mongrel creatures like the kings have told people to believe." She smiled knowingly at the bewildered maid. "I know – all that you have been taught, all that they've trained you – is a lie. But isn't the truth so much sweeter than the lie?"

Ornella bit her upper lip in thought. "Yes…it makes me think of something. I remember my mother telling me a story, a story about a witch and a lion in Old Narnia. I loved the story so much. When I went to school one day, I asked the teacher about the story. She got mad and told me such things aren't real, and that I was a wicked girl for thinking of such things. I suppose it is true?"

Miss Titania's smile broadened. "Oh, yes, my dear. It is the most wonderful story in all of Old Narnia. But I'll save that for another time. I still have an explanation to finish." She breathed in, preparing for the next clarification. "Now, alchemy is not very well known. Most people now identify alchemy with turning objects into gold, but that is just a small, measly little practice in the spectrum of alchemy.

"Alchemy is not something you learn, dearie. It is something born inside of you. It is a rare gift that Aslan, the founder of Narnia, the son of the Emperor-Over-the-Sea, gave fairies. He gave them the ability to turn one object into another. That, my dear, is alchemy."

"So, if a fairy wanted to, it could change a flower into a bee?" Ornella asked. The gift sounded wonderful and lovely.

"Yes."

"Can you make something out of nothing?" Ornella asked excitedly.

Miss Titania's face fell a little. "No, my dear. A fairy cannot create something out of nothing. Only Aslan can do that," she informed.

"Oh." Ornella felt like she had been scolded. This Aslan seemed very powerful and respected. Miss Titania had mentioned his name so much, Ornella wondered if he was something grand, like a king. "What, or who, is Aslan?" Ornella inquired.

Miss Titania smiled a little, then patted Ornella's hand. "He is a very complicated…complicated being, my dear. He is the great ruler of Narnia, and has been in this world since the beginning of time. But I can't explain all of him to you in a few little sentences. I need at least an hour to explain only the beginning of Aslan's history." She pulled herself up once again, and laced her hands together. "Now, let's see if I can finish this explanation.

"The gift of alchemy, much like blues eyes, is inherited. It is so powerful a gift that it cannot die it – it only weakens from generation to generation. And I, like any other fairy descendent, am capable of alchemy.

"Is this too much for you to believe, dearie?" she asked Ornella, her eyes dark with a shadow of fear.

Ornella put her hands over her face, letting the information soak into her brain. A world that didn't exist, that she knew so little about, was suddenly very real and right before her. She could either reject it and keep to her old ways, or take the hard, not traveled road before her and believe. "It's very hard to comprehend, that after all I've been told, Narnians are real and that one is before me. But I have very little to lose, so I might as well," she quietly resolved.

Miss Titania closed her eyes and loosened her shoulders. "Thank you for believing, my dear. People these days don't have enough capacity to believe in things that they can't see." She opened her eyes, and now the shadow within them had cleared. They were once again the clear, bright, hope-filled eyes they always were. She stood up suddenly, rolling her sleeves up. "Stand up now, dearie."

Ornella complied, wondering what Miss Titania could possibly want. "What are you going to do, Miss Titania?"

"I'm going to keep good on my promise, Ornella. You shall go to that ball, fancy gown and all. Now, you need to give me some time. I haven't done this in a very, very long time. Put your arms at your side," Miss Titania commanded. Ornella stood straight as a statue. Her stomach churned in anticipation. It was really going to happen. All of what Miss Titania said was going to happen right before her eyes. "Now, spin around, slowly, though." Ornella did so, watching the room move before her.

Miss Titania held out her hands before her and closed her eyes. For a few seconds, nothing happened, and Ornella felt a little self-conscious as she continued to spin. Suddenly, right as Ornella was beginning to doubt, bright, golden light began to fill the room, encircling and wrapping about her. She felt the light settle upon her body, weightless as air and warm as the sun. It tugged at her dress, pulled on her hair, wound its way around her. Her dress loosened and grew tight and shortened and lengthened at once. She felt her hair wind up upon her head, being pinned in place. Her shoes grew small and thin and taller. It was like being deconstructed and reconstructed all at once, in the gentlest of ways.

"And stop," Miss Titania declared, lowering her hands and taking the lovely light with her. Ornella halted right in front of Miss Titania. The woman's eyes were alight with delight, as the widest smile in the world graced her face. "My dear, you are lovely beyond compare."


	5. Chapter 5

Caspian felt a yawn coming on. Two hours in, and the ball wasn't looking very promising. He had greeted thousands of tittering girls, and still had about twenty more. There were beautiful girls, plain girls, serious girls, frivolous girls, old girls, young girls, every single type, yet they still seemed out of sorts.

Caspian was standing in the middle of the ballroom, in front of the thrones where his father and mother were seated. Occasionally, he would look back at them. They managed to keep happy, willing smiles on their faces, yet Caspian could barely continue to hide his ennui. He glanced over at his brother, sitting on the side of the ballroom and talking happily with his betrothed. Miraz had, from time to time, given Caspian dirty looks.

The end of the line was nearing, and it was closing in on eight o'clock. Soon he'd have to start dancing with these girls.

_Ugh, _he grimaced inwardly.

"The Ladies Mirabella and Verelle Clondoze," the duke announced. Caspian inwardly winced. Ornella's stepsisters were lovely in their rich gowns of silk and satin, yet they looked hard and harsh, their smiles sharp and pinned on.

"So wonderful to meet you, Prince Caspian," the taller one formally greeted. Her voice was a mellow, rich alto. "I am Mirabella, the eldest Clondoze sister." She curtsied deeply, holding out her hand above her head. Caspian stared at it for a few seconds, then realized that she expected him to pull her up from her curtsy.

"Oh, pardon me," Caspian coughed, taking Mirabella's hand and pulling her up. She smiled highly and haughtily.

"Oh, no need to apologize, my dear Prince. Your presence is enough to satisfy me," she complimented.

Caspian nearly choked on his laughter. Mirabella's flattery was ridiculously overdone. He hated it when people flattered him – especially when it was done so awfully.

"And I am Verelle, dear Prince Caspian," the shorter sister greeted, dropping into a dip. She was like Mirabella, except her voice was a grating, high falsetto. "I am simply overjoyed to see you."

"No need for such flattery," Caspian replied, helping her up from her curtsy.

"Nonsense. Royalty deserves flattery," she replied.

"Oh, of course," Mirabella added. Verelle shot her a dark look.

"Well, thank you," Caspian replied. "It was nice to meet you."

"Oh, but you must have a dance with me, dear Prince," Mirabella begged, pathetically. Her painful smile was flipped into a frown that was meant to be endearing, but instead was a grimace.

"Yes, please dance with me," Verelle added. This time Mirabella gave the dirty look.

"We'll see," Caspian replied. The two sisters pinned their smiles back on and bowed, still standing before him. Caspian shuffled his feet, cleared his throat, and looked at his boots, yet the sisters still stood in front of him.

"Er, you can leave now," he awkwardly stated.

"Oh, yes," they muttered together, nodding and bowing and turning away. They walked backwards, slowly, still staring at him, and ran into a poor butler carrying a plate of hors d'oeuvres. They landed in a pile on the floor, salmon eggs now decorating their dresses. Caspian tried his hardest not to die of laughter and embarrassment. Yes, tonight was going to be a long night.

He greeted the last few girls, who managed to keep their heads on after the Clondoze sisters' display. He felt the dread of dancing build up. He saw the duke in the ballroom, lining up girls for a dance.

_Ugh, please, no more lines_, Caspian thought, as he greeted the last guest. He sighed, knowing that one part of the ball was over and the next was just waiting.

He had tried his hardest to listen to Miraz's advice and to have a good time. He knew, however, that this ball was a total waste, not because he wasn't having fun, or wasn't finding a wife, but because he had already found the love he was looking for, and she wasn't even at this ball.

That moment in his room earlier, when he looked into Ornella's eyes, made him realize what that strange feeling was. It wasn't pity or nerves, but love. He never felt something like love before, whether mild puppy love or intense devotion, but he knew that was all it could be. How else could he explain why his heart would race at the sight of her, or why his thoughts, even now, were filled with her?

It certainly wasn't the soft, easy ride that he heard it would be. All of what he would hear from his brother and the other noblemen was how delightful it was, how wonderful it felt. Caspian felt like he was going through hell. His was so sick, his heart pounding away and his mind running in circles. Worst of all was the questions that kept on looming in his mind.

Every second brought a new question. What was he going to tell his parents? What was he going to say to Ornella? Was he just imagining things, pretending that he was in love with her? What was the point of him being here, when he already found his love? How were people going to handle the fact that he was in love with a scullery maid? Most of all, did she care for him?

His mind hurt from all of the questions whirling inside of him. He wanted to just get up and leave and find Ornella, but he couldn't ignore his guests. They probably spent a lot of money to come here, and were expecting a good time with the prince.

While his thoughts were raging inside, Caspian managed to keep an interested demeanor on the outside. He turned to see the line of girls waiting to dance with him grow. They all grinned eagerly at him, and a few even waved. He waved back shyly, and sent the entire line into a tizzy. Caspian found himself taken aback by his clout – it was stunning to him that he could make an entire line of girls swoon with a wave of his hand. Other than being a prince, he didn't see anything interesting about him at all.

He briefly looked up at the clock; quarter past eight. Time to start dancing.

The first girl he danced with was a young girl, about sixteen. She was round and pink-faced, like most schoolgirls. She seemed a little in awe of him, as if she couldn't believe she was dancing with a prince. Every time he tried to make light conversation, she just giggled and replied 'I don't know.' She was a sweet thing, but only that.

The second girl was closer to his age, maybe twenty or twenty-one. She was dressed in dark green and wore an extravagant amount of pearls. Caspian knew her to be the daughter of a nobleman, and someone that others considered was an early candidate for his heart. While she was an enjoyable girl, she seemed haughty and standoffish. She barely said anything to Caspian except simple answers like 'yes' and 'no.'

The next one was the aforementioned Princess Clemency of Archenland. Her twin sister Clementine was already married, and the royal family of Archenland was hoping to make a match with Caspian. Caspian knew that his parents would have liked a marriage between him and Clemency, as that meant uniting the two neighboring kingdoms. However, Caspian felt no emotion whatsoever towards Clemency. She was a pretty girl, with pale skin and ash blonde hair, and a head full of knowledge. However, she was so stuffy and boring that Caspian felt himself drifting to sleep while she told him about the history of minnow fishing in Calormen.

Such was Caspian's night of dancing. He would sometimes be the only one talking during dances, sometimes he couldn't get a word in edgewise. Sometimes the girls would stare in amazement at him; sometimes they would stare at the floor in timidity. Through it all, he didn't meet one girl who could change his feelings about Ornella. All through the dances, he could only think of his little scullery maid, slaving away in the kitchen while he danced the night away.

Finally, he was finished dancing. The last maiden, a girl in bright purple, held a death grip on his hand. He had to pluck her hand off and tell her kindly to put some space between them. Even though he danced with hundreds of girls, this was the first one to insist on clinging to him so.

He looked up at the clock in weariness. Eleven thirty. Over three hours of nothing but dancing. His feet were sore, his throat scratchy, and his brain still full of thoughts. He needed a break.

After successfully convincing his parents for half an hour to himself, Caspian quietly slipped out of the ballroom and into the garden. The moon was bright and full, a dead white orb in the sky. He walked over to a hedge, which the gardeners grew to be as tall as a wall and just as thick. He sat on the bench in front of it and rested his head against the greenery, letting his thoughts soak through his being. Far away, he could hear the sounds of the ballroom spilling out into the night air, but it was faint. Out here, it was peaceful. He could think in quiet.

A sneeze from the other side of the bush broke that silence.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: Thank you to all of my readers who have stuck through with me! This isn't the last chapter, but I do want to say that the story is winding down. Please, stick with me til the end!

__________

Ornella felt that her heart would always be in a constant state of high tension. It smacked wildly against her ribs, falling back to her spine, then rising up to her chest again. She looked up at the clock tower: eight fifteen. Two hours had already gone by since the ball had begun, and she only had about four hours to enjoy it. Miss Titania's alchemy would only last until about midnight.

***

"My dear, you are lovely beyond compare," Miss Titania declared.

"Oh, truly Miss Titania?" Ornella quavered. She couldn't believe what had just happened to her. She had gone from being dressed in her plain maid's outfit to being in a magnificent ball gown.

"Go see for yourself," she said, pointing to the mirror on the wall.

Ornella walked over to the glass to look at herself. It was dim, and slightly warped her face, yet she couldn't believe that the finely dressed woman in the mirror was she. She looked down at herself in amazement. She had never worn anything so lovely before in her life. Her dress was made of dark, midnight blue silk satin, with a full skirt and a tight fitting bodice. Her neckline was very shallow, but the back of her dress was the stunning part – it plunged down her back, ending in a point on the small of her back. Her hair was coiled up her head elaborately, and tucked into a coil was a bright silver comb and a mantilla attached. What topped it all off was the tiny, elegant glass slippers on her feet.

"There's one last thing, dearie," said Miss Titania. "My alchemy is very weak. True fairies' alchemy is permanent. But the less fairy blood you have, the weaker your alchemy will be. I have very little fairy blood in me. My fairy ancestor lived hundreds of years ago. As a result, my alchemy will only last for about four hours, which means," she looked up at the clock at the mantle, "all of this, all of your fancy clothes, will turn back into your maid outfit at midnight. Be sure you come back through the side entrance," she warned.

"Why should I do that?" Ornella asked, examining her hair in a mirror.

"It would look odd if a guest went down to the servants' quarters, wouldn't it?" Miss Titania stated.

"Oh," the maid realized. She turned to the kind woman, and smiled brightly. "How can I ever thank you, Miss Titania?"

"By having a wonderful time tonight – and telling me all about it," Miss Titania replied. She smiled and hugged the excited maid. "Now, go before the time is up. I don't want all of this beauty to go to waste."

***

Ornella walked carefully to the front of the castle. A few carriages were parked outside in front of the castle. It seemed like they had run out of parking in the stables and had to use the front lawn. She pressed herself up against the side of a smooth, ivory-colored carriage. She had to be careful and look as if she belonged. The guards out front were imposing and burly; they could easily overtake her.

She reached up and pulled the mantilla over her face. The double-layered veil was a wonder – it was thick enough on the outside to blur her face, yet thin enough that she could see without a problem.

She took a deep breath and walked out from behind the carriage. She kept her head erect, acting like the noblewomen she saw in court. Her heart was beating madly from nerves. Each step up the stairs made it increase, until, at the landing, her heart was shaking. She paused for a second, wondering if the guards would question her. They said nothing.

Relieved, Ornella walked through the door. Her heart slowed only a little, for as she walked through the hallway to the ballroom, she heard the sound of music starting up.

_The dancing must have started, _Ornella thought as she reached the doors to the ballroom. Her heart picked up the pace again.

The ballroom, during the daytime, was always empty. It was dark and destitute, devoid of life. The tall windows would always have their drapes closed and the glass chandeliers cast shadows, not light, upon the floor.

But now it was as if someone had breathed life into the room. The drapes were drawn, to showcase the full moon. The chandeliers were bright as the sun, throwing light over all of the room. Most of all, it was filled with lively chatter, the sound of people enjoying themselves.

She looked into the room, and felt her pattering heart stop. There, in the center of the ballroom, was Caspian, dancing around the room with a girl in bright yellow silk. There was a line twisting around the room. Ornella assumed it was the line to dance with him.

She could have stood there all night, looking at the couples twirling about on dance floor as she always did. A little voice inside of her told her that, for one night, she didn't have to watch from the sidelines – she could _be _one of those dancers.

She picked up her skirts and walked to the staircase that descended down to the ballroom. A few couples were standing on the landing, exchanging fond glances and sweet words. Ornella had never seen so many people before in her life. Once she stepped off the last step, her heart had returned to its normal pace. After all of the worry, she made it.

Ornella was ready to sit down for a little bit of rest when she felt a firm grip on her elbow. She turned around and saw one of the noblemen, Lord Rebhol. He was one of the younger noblemen, around thirty. He was a very striking looking man, tall, with flashing eyes. "Why do you keep your face hidden, Miss?"

"A custom in my family," Ornella thought quickly. She was afraid he had caught her. "I must cover my face while in public."

"Interesting custom," he noted, a crooked grin gracing his face. "Would you like to share a dance with me, Miss?"

Ornella felt her stomach drop. She had never danced before. Years ago she took some lessons, but that was only for a few weeks in school. She could only remember that during the dances the man was supposed to lead. "You'll have to excuse my clumsiness. I don't do much dancing," Ornella said, her face flushing from embarrassment.

"Oh, it will be easy. Just do what I do," he assured, guiding her to the dance floor. He took his hand in hers and put another hand on her waist. Ornella, unsure of what she'd do with her free hand, looked at how the other women were standing. She shyly picked up her skirt, her face burning with embarrassment.

The music started, and Lord Rebhol struck a pose. Ornella copied him. Suddenly, he picked up her and swirled around the room. Ornella would have screamed had her tongue not felt like it had swelled to the size of a squash. He placed her down easily, then spun her around. Her head was starting to spin. The music was getting quicker, and he began to do some rapid steps, pushing her here and there. His feet twisted around hers, and she was afraid that he was going to step on her.

Just as Ornella felt like she was going to fall down flat on her face from lack of dance knowledge, the music ended. A huge wave of relief flooded through her body. No more dancing for her, she decided.

Lord Rebhol seemed to have the same look of relief on his face. "Thank you for the dance," he bowed politely. It seemed that Ornella's dance skills had warded off the lord, as he had quickly walked away. Ornella still stood on the dance floor, a little dazed. It was her first dance, and it was a nightmare.

She looked over at the line to dance with Caspian. It was still very long, but Ornella felt that if she was going to swear off dancing, she should at least dance with Caspian before doing so.

She stood behind a girl dressed in peach satin, her hair in a massive amount of curls. Up ahead, close towards the front, she saw her stepsisters, their heads close together, their mouths going a mile a minute. She looked behind her, and saw that that the line had grown even longer.

The night wore on, and an hour later, Ornella could see the front of the line. The prince would dance with about three girls a song, trying to give all of the girls in line a chance to dance with him. Many of the girls whispered how they wanted to be the one to claim Caspian for an entire dance, for that surely meant he cared for them. None of the girls so far had managed to do that.

As the line got shorter, her heart started up again. Would Caspian recognize her, even now? He knew so much about her, would even her stance give her away?

_Nonsense. You're worrying over nothing, Ornella_ she told herself, as the girl in peach was dancing with Caspian. It was the end of a gavotte, and the girl seemed to know what she was doing. Ornella gulped. She certainly wasn't going to look good after her.

The dance ended, and Caspian bowed to the girl in peach. She walked off, looking very pleased with herself.

"I think he was _very _interested in me," she declared smugly. Ornella felt her heart hammer.

Caspian walked over to Ornella, a smile gracing his face. She knew the smile well – his courtesy smile, warm enough to make a person happy, yet distant enough not to give a person any ideas. "Hello, Maiden," he greeted, with a bow. Ornella curtsied, spreading her silver petticoats out. "Have you had a nice night tonight?" He held out his hand to her. Ornella felt her heart leap up into her throat. She couldn't say a thing, so she nodded coyly instead.

Caspian chuckled softly. "You may take my hand," he replied. A slow song, a sarabande, was starting. Ornella was thankful that it wasn't something quick, as she took Caspian's hand. He put his arm on her waist, and she was glad that he couldn't see her face blush. Once again, she felt tongue-tied, unsure of whether she should say something or not. He moved a step back, and Ornella copied. His touch was gentle and his moves sure.

"What is your name, Miss?" he asked, "I don't remember greeting you before."

"Incognita," she told, thinking of a name quickly. "I arrived late."

"Ah," he replied, swooping her gracefully to the side. She wasn't afraid of messing up; she couldn't be afraid of anything when she was around him. "I trust that you are from another country?"

"Yes, from Old Telmar," Ornella thought hastily. She was very good at thinking on her feet. Almost no one lived in Old Telmar – it was quickly abandoned after Caspian the First conquered Narnia.

"Old Telmar? I thought no one lived there anymore," Caspian inquired, a puzzled look on his face.

"Oh, only a few people do. It's not very populated," Ornella nervously tittered. Her voice sounded high and whiny, as it usually did whenever she got nervous. She hated the sound of her nervous voice. "I just had to see this New Narnia prince they all were talking of."

"I don't know if I'm that exciting," Caspian admitted sheepishly. He gave her a bashful grin, and Ornella felt her heart melt. She loved that smile best.

"There must be a reason why all of these girls lined up to dance with you," Ornella noted, spinning around with Caspian's help.

"To have the possibility to become queen, what else?" he joked. He looked sideways for a moment, then looked back at Ornella, his face looking slightly down. "Well, looks like our dance must end, Incognita. It was wonderful dancing with you," he complimented, letting go of her hands and bowing. Ornella felt her heart drop – it couldn't be over, not now. Why, it had just started. And that was the one and only time she would be in his arms.

"Thank you for the wonderful time, Prince Caspian," she managed to choke out, as she curtsied. It was all too lovely to last. She turned away and looked up at the clock: twenty til ten.

_Well, I suppose I could sit a couple of dances out, _Ornella thought, as she sat in a chair in the back of the room. She looked down at the slippers on her feet. She always had tiny feet, and had a hard time finding shoes. The servants got their shoes in three sizes: small, medium, and large. The small was like a large on her feet, and as a result, they had to order special shoes for her. None of the shoes she had fit her as well or were as lovely as the glass slippers.

"Vino, Miss?" a butler asked. Ornella looked up and saw Julian, her friend, holding out a tray of fluted glasses filled with bubbly purple liquid before her. Ornella had to laugh a little at the situation. Her old friend and equal was serving her drinks. He gave her an odd look.

"Why, yes," Ornella replied, reaching for a glass. She glanced about the room to see if anyone was looking at her while Julian walked away. She carefully managed to slip the glass under her veil and sipped.

The drink instantly went to her nose and burned. She sneezed. It tasted wonderful, but she hated how it felt. She quickly downed the rest just to be rid of it, and the pulled the glass out from under her veil. Her nose stung horribly, and she had the strong urge to sneeze. She couldn't see what others saw in the drink.

Julian came back around to take her empty glass, smiling at her while she rubbed her nose. No, she certainly wasn't going to drink vino anymore.

She watched Caspian dance with a girl in red. He had that same congenial smile on his face. She sighed happily as she though about the dance they shared.

"Do you care for a dance, Miss?"

Ornella was brought of her reverie by the sudden request. She looked up to see a boy she didn't know. He wasn't very old, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He was dressed plainly, and was not someone Ornella knew from around court.

"Er, yes," she answered, unsure. She knew it was going to be hard, yet she couldn't refuse the eager-faced boy. She took his out-stretched hand and followed him to the dance floor.

Ornella was starting to get the hang of dancing. She was actually starting to enjoy herself a little. She danced with a few more partners, enjoying the evening and mystifying them with her covered face. She started to lose track of time, until after a gavotte she heard the clock chime eleven times.

_Oh, I only have an hour left, _Ornella thought, as she curtsied to a blond man in a green doublet. She wanted to do some more dancing, yet she felt the fatigue she had pushed back start to claim her again. She yawned sleepily and looked out at the doors that led toward the garden. Maybe she could sit out there, just for a little bit.

She bid the blond man good-bye, and walked out towards the glass doors. The night was lovely, both inside the ballroom and out. The garden was overflowing with fertile flowers and tall hedges.

She walked to a high hedge and sat on the bench behind it, lifting the mantilla off. The cool night air rushed to cover her face. It felt sweet and crisp.

It was hard to believe the wonderful night was almost over. She got to do all of the things denied to her before. She finally knew why Miss Titania wanted her to go to the ball – it wasn't just because Caspian would be there, but because she wanted Ornella to experience all of the things withheld from her. Gratitude flowed from her heart.

_Thank you for everything, Miss Titania, _Ornella thought, as she closed her eyes in remembrance.

She must have fallen asleep for a little while, for when she opened her eyes again, the clock struck the half hour. She scolded herself for falling asleep, and straightened her skirt, ready to go back inside. She stood up quickly, and felt the vino from long ago come back to her nose. She sneezed violently.

"The Lion bless you," a voice said.


	7. Chapter 7

Note: We're almost to the end! Unless something major develops, next chapter should be the last!

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"The Lion bless you," Caspian automatically said. His shoulders slumped a little as he realized he wasn't alone. Even when he wanted to be alone, people still managed to find him. Although, if the person remained on the other side of the hedge, he wouldn't mind sharing his time with them.

"Thank you," the person replied. The voice was a woman's, and was muffled by the thick bush between them. "Have you ever wondered why we say that?"

"What?" Caspian coughed. His voice was hoarse from all of the talking he had done that night.

"'The Lion bless you?'"

"I suppose it's something left over from the Old Narnians," Caspian suggested. "Nobody knows what it means."

"Funny that we would keep something like that, considering the 'no Old Narnians' rule," the woman observed. "I don't see anything harmful about them at all."

"No, there's nothing harmful about them. I think Old Narnians are fairytales, just little myths and legends that were made up. No one has any proof that they exist," Caspian voiced. He knew that talking about such matters would result in dire consequences, but the woman was friendly, easy to talk to, and some one that didn't seem to be afraid of the consequences.

"There's no proof to show that they don't exist, either," she contradicted.

_She is true, _he thought as he felt a smile creep onto his face, one of the few genuine ones he had given all night. His smile became a weary smirk as he realized the fact. He had given so many false smiles and empty compliments that night. He was so tired of pretending, of acting like he was interested when he wasn't. The entire night, he had felt like fraud, and he hated it.

"Something on your mind?" the woman wondered. The loaded pause must have said something to her.

"Nothing too important," Caspian replied, running a hand through his hair. "Just thinking about tonight."

"Have you had a good night?" she asked. Her voice was warm, warm and familiar.

Caspian took a deep breath and released an even deeper sigh. "I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Yes, well, it's just been a very long night," Caspian replied, crossing his arms. He wondered how she could make him confess so much.

"A long night of dancing, I guess."

"Too much, I'd say. My feet are blistering over as we speak," he joked. The woman gave a soft chuckle. Caspian was glad to hear a gentle, delicate laugh, rather than the high-pitched giggles he had received all night.

"I think dancing's delightful. I haven't been to a ball or even a dance or social before, you see," the woman confessed. "Commoners don't get to do these things very often."

"They're fun, every once in awhile," Caspian commented.

"You must go to these things all the time."

"Only when I feel like it. I haven't been to a ball in over a year, though." Parties were fun on occasion to Caspian. Such gaieties like these could only be tolerated from time to time.

"They're very expensive to attend. Many of the commoners said this will probably be the only royal ball they could ever afford to go. And such an important one, too."

"I should think that a coronation ball would be more important than this," Caspian stated.

"Oh, of course. But there hasn't been one in over thirty years. Many people here, including me, have lived with King Caspian the Eighth as their king for their entire lives."

Caspian was struck by that thought, yet it was true – his grandfather, King Caspian the Seventh, had died long before he was even born. There wasn't a time in his life when he wasn't a prince.

"Let's hope it stays that way for a long time," Caspian whispered.

"Did you say something?" the woman asked.

"No."

***

The man on the opposite side of the bush seemed to be an agreeable man. He didn't believe in Old Narnia, but that was to be expected. So few people believed in Old Narnia – Ornella herself didn't until just a few hours ago.

He had a raspy, throaty voice and a very tired air. Something seemed to be on the man's mind, and she felt some strange urge that she needed to help him.

"The prince seems to be having a good time tonight, with all of the girls around him," she casually said.

"Yeah," the man mumbled, downcast.

"You don't sound too happy. Wouldn't you want hundreds of girls at your beck and call?" Ornella joked.

"Not if the one I loved wasn't there," the man replied gruffly. His voice sounded hurt.

Ornella took a shot in the dark, hoping that the man wouldn't get offended. "Sounds like you're hurting, sir."

The man was silent for a while. Ornella was afraid that she had chased him away, or worse. His sudden response caught her off guard. "You wouldn't know."

Ornella smirked. _Like I wouldn't know about heartache. _"I know what it's like to love someone who might not love you at all," she tenderly confessed. The hurt stored in the back of her mind came back. Good times could only cover up bad memories for a small amount of time.

The man was silent again. With only his voice to depend on, Ornella couldn't tell what the man was thinking. "Maybe you could help me, then."

"If that is what you want, sir," Ornella quietly complied.

They sat in silence once again, and Ornella wondered what was going through the man's mind. "I just realized that I am in love with this woman, and now I have all of these questions running through my mind."

"You're probably worried that she doesn't feel the same way about you," Ornella observed. "I know that feeling very well."

"What should I do then?" the man asked, desperation tinting his voice slightly.

Ornella bit her upper lip. "You should tell her how you feel, since she can't guess how you feel."

"It's that simple?" the man questioned.

"Well, advice is better to give than to do. I'm a bad example. I'm in love with a man as well, but I haven't told him yet because I'm too afraid."

"Afraid of what? You can talk about love to a strange man, yet you can't tell someone that you love them?" The man caught the irony.

"I know it sounds funny, but it's…I'd rather live in torture than have to live with rejection," Ornella admitted.

"That doesn't give me much hope," the man muttered.

"It takes all the courage in the world to confess to someone that you love them," Ornella noted. "But for all we know, maybe they do care for us."

"And that's what makes everything so hard to bear. All of the possibilities of what could happen and how wonderful it all could be. Or how horrible," the man said.

"Those possibilities are horrible. That's all you can seem to dwell on," Ornella sighed. "I'm also worried because, well, he's a lot better off than I am."

"And you're worried that he's too good for you," the man said.

"Exactly. I'm a commoner and – well, he's very entitled." She certainly couldn't say that she was in love with the prince!

"You know there are no marriage laws in New Narnia," the man pointed out.

"Yes, but there are people's prejudices. Those are stronger than laws can ever be."

"Is he someone who would reject you based on your social stance?"

"No…but his family could very well be," Ornella sighed. It seemed that the man had turned the tables on her and was helping her along.

"You seem to be in same exact situation as me, Miss, except I'm the one better off. I wonder what my family would say, too."

"Looks like we need a great big dose of courage," Ornella prescribed. The thought of her confessing her love to Caspian sent her stomach hurtling toward the ground. "I'm scared just thinking about it."

"Why don't we do it together?" the man proposed. "I mean, we should both promise to tell them tonight. Things are always better if it's done with someone else."

"It would be comforting to know that I am not alone in the confession," Ornella agreed. "Tonight then – we tell them that we love them." Her shoulders lifted from the great weight, yet her stomach had yet to rise up. "I still feel nervous."

"I'm sure whoever that man is, he's lucky to have a woman like you," the man complimented. Ornella opened her mouth to respond. Words didn't come out, but instead the harsh sound of a clock's chime did. She bolted up and flung the mantilla over her face. She had forgotten all about the midnight curfew, and now she had only as much time as the clock took to strike twelve. She tried to think of how she could escape quickly. She looked to the right, and saw the hedge that divided the garden from the front lawn of the castle. She broke into a run, not caring whether the hedge scratched her or not. She felt one of her shoes come off, but she didn't stop, as she broke through the other side of the hedge, ripping her mantilla.

***

Caspian heard the sound of the clock start to chime midnight.

_Well, looks like my half hour is over_, Caspian thought, standing up. Through the first chime, he heard a quick, manic rustle come from behind the bush. The woman seemed to be in a hurry. He suddenly heard rustling, followed by a loud ripping noise. What _was _that woman doing?

He peered around the edge to look behind the bush, but saw nothing. Puzzled, he walked over to where the woman was sitting. He looked to the right, and saw a large hole in the surrounding hedge, and something glimmering in the moonlight. His brows knitted together as he walked over to the shining object. He picked it up, and realized that it was the woman's shoe, expertly made of shimmering glass. The slipper was lovely, too lovely to leave. He pocketed the slipper, planning to find the owner.

He looked up at the large hole, and realized that she must have fled through there for some reason. He looked through the hole, the situation growing weirder the farther he went.

No one was there. It seemed that as mysteriously as she had appeared, she had disappeared. Caspian shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

_Well, that was certainly odd. She was a nice woman, however. She helped me greatly. And now I know what I must do. I need to tell Ornella tonight; tell her that I love her._

The clock finished its toll once he reached the doors to the ballroom.


	8. Chapter 8

Note: Sorry I took so long to post this up, guys! I promise I wasn't trying to torture you; I just had a VERY busy week, and couldn't get to this chapter as quick as I did with the others. Hope the wait was worth your while.

_____________________

Her mantilla was ripped jaggedly across her face, almost hanging in two. There were gashes on her arms and tears in her dress, yet she didn't notice those injuries since the only thing on her mind at that moment was trying to get back to the servants' quarters before midnight was over.

Second chime.

She was running as fast as her legs would allow. Her missing shoe caused her to limp, and in a mad haste she pulled the remaining shoe off her foot. She had no time to waste – she had to get back in time.

Fourth chime.

She stared ahead, trying to focus. She was almost past the right side of the front lawn. She could see the driveway to the castle ahead of her. She didn't care what the guards thought of her now – her mind was set on one thing.

Seventh chime.

Half her time was up. She felt her breath getting shallow, her legs start to burn. Her body was crying from pure agony, but she simply could not stop – not with something so important on the line.

Ninth chime.

She made it past the driveway, the gravel and sand crunching beneath her. She felt the larger rocks cut into her bare feet, and she winced in pain. Her entire body was begging her to stop, but her mind told her to continue. She was almost there; she could see the door –

Eleventh chime.

She had only a few seconds, as she grabbed the handle of the door. Her other hand dropped the glass slipper on the grass, too weary to hold the object any longer. She turned the knob.

Twelfth chime.

She passed through the door, and was dressed in her maid's outfit, now marked with the battle scars from the skirmish she had with the bush. Her hair was in disarray, and her ribbon was barely holding her hair back.

She collapsed in the nearest chair, rolling her head back and taking a deep sigh. Ornella felt her eyes close and her body rest. The sleep she had put off for so long was claiming her, and it never felt more welcome.

***

"Ornella, dear."

Sounds were coming back to her, sounds that were muffled and distorted. She heard a familiar sound, ringing clearly. Mixed along with that was the voice of a woman, comforting and gentle.

"Ornella, dearie."

The sounds were becoming clearer, as was her sense of touch. She felt a firm grip on her shoulder, sharper than the words she heard.

"Ornella, please wake up."

Suddenly her sense of sight was back, as her eyes fluttered open to see two benevolent blue ones looking down at her. "You look very battered, dear. What happened?"

"Oh, Miss Titania. I…well, it's a very, very long story," she yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"You have about half an hour to tell me, dear," she stated, pointing at the clock on the mantle. It read two thirty.

"What happens at three?" Ornella groggily asked, pushing loose strands of hair out of her face.

"It's the end of the ball, dearie. You know who will be coming to see you," she smiled knowingly. Ornella straightened up in her chair. Everything was coming back in a rush of memories.

_Caspian…I've got to tell him tonight. What a strong promise to give someone – I don't know if it's such a good idea anymore, _Ornella thought, her courage faltering. "Oh, I forgot. But he really doesn't need to tell me anything, does he?" she swallowed. Her mouth was dry and bitter. "I've already seen it all for myself."

"But he doesn't know that," Miss Titania said, pouring the maid a cup of water. Ornella drank, the water moistening her mouth only a little.

"He probably wasn't expecting me to be in such a state, either," Ornella noted, downing the last of her water. Miss Titania filled her cup right back up.

"How did you end up like this? Master Janeco will have a fit when he sees what you've done to your new uniform."

Ornella sighed, and started to tell Miss Titania the whole story about the man on the other side of the bush.

"So you took the most convenient way of getting here at the time, which was by shrubbery," Miss Titania said, amused. "Well, that's certainly one for the books."

"Well, it was probably easier pushing through that bush than it would be pushing through all of those people at the ball," Ornella theorized.

"And you say you don't know the man's name?" Miss Titania looked at her questioningly.

"I wasn't really thinking about that when I was talking to him, Miss Titania." She tried to make her hair presentable by running her fingers through it. She pulled the battered ribbon out of her hair. "It's just odd that he would be in the same situation that I was in. Although, unrequited love isn't an uncommon thing. He just seemed…familiar."

"Maybe he was an old friend of yours," Miss Titania guessed.

"Maybe," Ornella absently agreed. She rubbed her thumb over the handle of the cup, lost in thought. "It was a wonderful night, nevertheless."

"Did you get to see your prince?" Miss Titania asked, a smile gracing her face.

"Oh, that and more, Miss Titania," Ornella exclaimed, beginning to tell the kind lady about her wonderful night. She told her of the bright lights, the beautiful dresses, and the wonderful food. She told of her dancing experiences, and laughed heartily at the misfortune of Lord Rebhol. The night was perfect – every little memory and every little detail was beautiful and lasting.

"I don't think I shall ever have as wonderful a night as long as I live," Ornella sighed. "It wasn't just the prince – it was everything that I never got to do. I got to dance and wear a beautiful dress and try different foods and pretend that I was someone else. I'll probably never get to do that again."

"That's one of the reasons why I wanted you to go. Who knows when you'll be able to do something like that again?" Miss Titania said, getting up from her chair. "Now, I think you need to get a bit cleaned up, dear. You have a very nasty cut on your right arm."

Ornella looked down and saw a deep gash across the top of her arm. She winced at the dried blood around her cut. In her mad dash to get back to the servants' quarters, she hadn't noticed any of her injuries. Now she felt the sting of cuts and the blunt pressure of bruises. Miss Titania began to wash her cut. She winced as the lady cleaned her cut with alcohol.

Miss Titania was finishing tying off a bandage when they heard a knock at the door.

Ornella's heart suddenly quickened its pace. She knew that only one person would want to see her at this time of the night. "Come in," she shakily said.

***

Caspian felt his heart pound as he walked towards the servants' quarters. That newfound courage that the mysterious lady had given him was starting to disappear. It was all very real now – he was going to tell her how he felt. Strangely, after that resolution, he seemed to enjoy himself. He was happier, as if the clouds covering his feelings seemed to clear away, leaving his world clear and bright.

He came to the door of the servants' quarters, and stood there for a second. It would only take a moment. A moment, and either barriers would be swept away or built higher. He teetered nervously on the edge, wondering whether to lean forward and take the plunge, or pull back and walk away, never to know.

He raised his fist and knocked.

An unsure voice told him to come in, and, taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Ornella was perched on a chair, her arm being bandaged by Miss Titania and looking thoroughly roughed up. Caspian stopped, surprised that she would be in such a state.

"Hello, Your Majesty," Ornella greeted, acting as if she wasn't getting tended to at all.

"What happened, Ornella?" he gave her a shocked look.

"Oh, it's a long story," Ornella chuckled, lowering her bandaged arm. She smiled warmly at Caspian, causing his heart to give another wild thump. "So how was the ball?"

Caspian felt his heart slow slightly as he took a seat. "Are you sure that everything's fine?"

"Yes, Caspian. Now, tell me about this ball."

He was still dressed in his fine clothes, not wanting to waste a second with changing. "It was as pleasant as it could be."

"Did you find any girl that would capture your heart?" she asked, her voice sounding a little wary.

He knew now would be the time – the subject had come up so organically, he had to tell her now. His blood racing through his body, Caspian got up from his seat and walked over to Ornella. The maid looked at him curiously. "No…I may have already found her." He took Ornella's hand into his. Her well-worked, calloused hand fit so perfectly within his.

"What are you doing, Caspian?" Ornella asked, her voice fretted with confusion. She looked about the room, as if to find her headmistress, but she seemed to have disappeared.

"Something very important, Ornella." The little maid was looking up at him with a patient but questioning face. Caspian swallowed the lump in his throat, and sighed deeply. "I love you, Ornella."

His heart stopped. He didn't realize how powerful those words were until he said them. They are tossed around so much that, until a fateful moment, they are meaningless.

Ornella sat, shocked. She seemed frozen in stone. She kept her hand in Caspian's, not moving a single muscle. Caspian felt fear start to trickle into his heart. Was the worst in store for him? Would she turn him down, and make him seem like the lovesick fool he knew he was?

He thought that it was all over when Ornella finally broke her silence. "I'm…I…wow, Caspian," she sputtered. She blinked and shook her head slightly.

"Oh, I knew it. I knew I shouldn't have said anything," Caspian groaned, pulling his hand away. He walked over to the mantle and rested an elbow upon it, his face in his hand. He felt hurt, but also very embarrassed. He was so filled with emotion that he didn't notice the soft pressure of a hand on his shoulder, or the closeness of someone behind him.

"Why are you so upset, Caspian?" her voice was soft and gentle. Caspian turned to see Ornella looking lovingly at him.

"Because I thought you didn't love me, and I felt like a fool for saying anything," he muttered.

"I didn't say that I didn't love you, Caspian," she said softly. "On the contrary, I…well, I love you too." She lowered her eyes and grinned bashfully. "I was just so surprised that you felt the same way. I thought you just considered me as a friend."

Caspian felt the anguish inside of him slowly slip away, as exhilaration started to fill him. "Truly Ornella?"

"Truly."

The prince smiled widely and contentedly as he threw his arms around the maid. She laughed at the sudden embrace, and wrapped her arms around him.

"I was so afraid to tell you," Caspian said, pulling back from their embrace. "I knew that if I didn't tell you tonight, I probably never would."

"I was actually going to tell you tonight, too," Ornella admitted. "Although it looks like you beat me to it." She put her hands in his, blushing at the slight awkwardness of new love. "I've loved you for some time, truth be told."

"I've only really known since tonight, when you were in my bedroom. I didn't know what that feeling was until then." Caspian leaned in to kiss her gently. Ornella lifted her head, but a slight giggle escaped her lips before they met with Caspian's.

"What?" the prince asked, a little confused.

"Oh, it's nothing; I just can't believe this is happening. I'm as giddy as a schoolgirl," she had a joking grin on her face.

Caspian rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead. "Maybe that will do until you find your senses." He took her in, marveling that even when she was in torn, plain clothing, she was still more beautiful than any of the girls at the ball. He glimpsed at her feet and furrowed his brows. "What happened to your shoes?"

Ornella looked down and saw that she was still shoeless, clad only in stockings. "Oh, I took them off." She walked over to the door to the outside and opened it. The sight of her shoeless feet reminded him of something.

"I met an interesting woman at the ball tonight," Caspian said, reaching into the pocket of his doublet.

"Oh. What was she like?" Ornella asked, closing the door behind her.

"Well, she was very nice, but at midnight, she ran away and left her –" He pulled the slipper out of his pocket, although it sure didn't feel like the smooth, cool glass slipper he had before. Instead, a worn, tattered, tiny clog was in his hand. Caspian stared at the shoe, puzzled. He looked up at Ornella, and both of them gasped.

Ornella had the matching shoe in her hand.

***

"Why do you have my shoe, Caspian?" Ornella asked, warily.

"I was going to ask you the same question," Caspian said, studying the shoe. How did a glass slipper become a clog? That certainly was _not _possible. "This shoe," he held up the aforementioned object "was a glass slipper that belonged to a woman at the ball. At least, that's what it was when I put it in my pocket. And since there's no way anyone could have gotten close enough to me to swap the two out, I don't see how your shoe got into my pocket unless some magic happened or that you –"

All at once realization hit them like a bolt of lightening.

"It was _you_?" they both exclaimed in astonishment.

"Ornella, how did you – what did you –" Caspian sputtered.

"You were the man on the other side of the bush?" Ornella asked, her senses still functioning.

"Yes, I suppose so. But what were you doing at the ball?"

"I was…well…I had the night off, and I thought it would be fun to see a royal ball," Ornella said, carefully. She didn't want to expose Miss Titania's secret.

"But how come I didn't see you there? I'm sure I would have recognized you," Caspian wondered, looking down at the shoe as if it held the answer. "Unless you were the woman with the veil over her face! She was the only one who had her face covered."

"Yes, that was me," Ornella said, biting her upper lip. She couldn't tell if Caspian was happy or angry or astounded.

"But why didn't you tell me you were there?"

"Well, you were supposed to find a mate. I certainly would have been a very big distraction."

"Yes, maybe. I-I'm sorry, I just can't believe that woman was you. It would explain all of your injuries."

"Yes, well, I'm having a hard time believing you were that man," Ornella said, putting her shoe back on her foot. "Your voice…it didn't sound like you." She sat down on the chair, a little mystified.

"Well, my voice is very hoarse. I've done more talking tonight than I've probably ever done before," Caspian said, walking to Ornella. He knelt down and slipped the other shoe on her foot. It fit perfectly.

"Funny how life works out," Ornella observed. Caspian stood up, pulling Ornella to her feet. He bent down to kiss her once again; this time, no shy giggles came to her lips.

"One last thing, Ornella," Caspian said, after they broke their kiss, "where did all of your clothes come from? And why did your shoe go from being a clog to a slipper?"

Ornella smiled. "Only Aslan knows."

***

"And they lived happily ever after. And that," Miss Titania said, with a warm smile gracing her face "is how your parents fell in love." Her hair was closer to white now, and her face held creases, yet her eyes were still as blue and her smile still as warm. She stood up from her seat next to the fireplace and ushered her ward to his bed. She enjoyed her new job as the young boy's nurse, but it came at a cost.

"Truly, Miss Titania?" Caspian asked. The young boy had the same face and willing eyes as his father, yet his spirit and smile was exactly like his mother's.

"Truly, my dear boy. Now, go to bed. It's well past your bedtime. That story took longer than I thought."

"Oh, but it's so wonderful, and I hear so little of my mother. Father doesn't talk much of her anymore." The young boy snuggled down under the covers of his bed.

"Yes, well, your father loved your mother very much, and he was very sad when she died." Miss Titania had a glassy look to her eyes, remembering times past. Ornella had died soon after giving birth to Caspian, resulting in Miss Titania's new position as Caspian's nurse. The elder Caspian never seemed the same after his wife's death. She herself felt sad at the loss of a girl she thought of like her own daughter. "She was a very unique person, Caspian."

"Is unique a good thing, Miss Titania?"

"Yes, my dear boy. She was the only person like her in all of Narnia. And that is why your father still grieves for her now, for no woman could ever come close to your mother." She tucked Caspian tightly into bed, then kissed his forehead. "Now, have pleasant dreams." She blew the light on his vanity out, and took her own candle, leaving the little stub on his nightstand alight.

"Miss Titania?" the little boy asked, sitting upright in his bed.

"Yes dearie?"

"Will you tell me about the Four Sovereigns? You've promised to many times, but have never told me yet." His eyes were pleading.

"Yes, dear – but tomorrow."

"Why not now?"

"You need your sleep, and so do I. But think of it as something to look forward to."

The gentle woman smiled and closed the door, walking away with her memories lingering in the air.

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Last Note: Bet you weren't expecting the slipper to turn back into a clog. The fact that in most Cinderella stories her slipper stays a glass slipper always seemed like a big plot hole to me, even when I was a kid! So I corrected it, and made it a quick finish to the story.

Now that I'm done with the story, I'm going to be taking a break for an unspecified amount of time. School's starting, and I need some time off. I promise you that I haven't abandoned fanfiction, I just need some time off.

Thank you to all of my readers, those who reviewed, favored this story, favored me, or just even dropped by. You don't know how much that means to me. I always am happy to learn that someone likes my writing.

Til next time,

Bottle of Smoke


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